A Season for Smugglers: Deception and Discipline #3 Read online

  A Season for Smugglers

  GOLDEN ANGEL

  Copyright © 2022 by Golden Angel

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover art by Eris Adderly

  Edited by Personal Touch Editing and Jennifer Bene

  Thank you so much for picking up my book!

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  Acknowledgments

  I am so lucky to have wonderful beta readers, and I know it. Katherine, Candida, Marie, Annie, Karen, and Marta: thank you all so much for your continued support and help with these books! They are always made better for your contributions.

  And, as always, a shoutout to my ever patient and supportive husband, who makes it possible for me to keep on writing.

  Take care and stay sassy,

  Angel

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Other Titles by Golden Angel

  Chapter One

  Nathan

  The Season was nearly over, thank God. Captain Nathan Jones felt nothing but relief at the thought as he rode through the quiet streets of Mayfair.

  Already, Mayfair was much quieter, the streets clearer, and he could go for a gallop through Hyde Park without having to arrive before dawn, which was what he was doing this morning. Not long after dawn, the sun barely over the horizon, the park was deserted.

  Not that Nathan would return home once the Season proper had ended. He was serving as his brother’s proxy in London. Now the Earl of Talbot, Sebastian was overwhelmed at home, trying to undo the harm their father had done to the estates.

  Sebastian had sent Nathan to London to handle everything he could in the capital, which was fortuitous since Oliver Stuart, the Marquess of Camden and Spymaster to the Crown, had also requested Nathan’s presence in London. Nathan had worked as an unofficial agent to the crown for quite a few years now, including when he’d been in the army. He was happy to serve his country. A hunt for a traitor who had attempted to assassinate the Duke of York had certainly spiced up the Season.

  Though he wouldn’t be returning to Brentwood Manor and the family estates, the end of the Season would be a huge relief since it meant his social duties would be finished for now. Until the next Season, most of the ton were returning to the countryside, where they would host house parties, tend to their home duties, and otherwise occupy themselves.

  Truth be told, Nathan preferred country life, so if he had to be in the city, he preferred it when everyone else… wasn’t.

  Nathan wasn’t often an early riser, even when in the country, but this past week he had been plagued by anxiety. Every morning, he’d risen early and gone riding, trying to shake the elusive feeling something was going to happen. That sense of premonition had served him well as a captain in the army, but now it was far more ominous because he was in the middle of London, not a battleground.

  The Season had ended without catching the traitor. He believed they had come close and were getting closer, but somehow, the traitor had eluded them.

  None of his friends wanted to believe Miss Lillian Davies had anything to do with it. They did not believe it. However, Nathan knew from personal experience, women could be treacherous, pretending to be one thing when actually they were waiting for an opportunity to stab you in the back.

  She was an unlikely suspect at first glance—a debutante, a good friend to the Marquess of Camden’s family, a neighbor, in fact. Her father had once saved the Duke of Frederick’s life.

  Yet would that not be the perfect cover?

  She was smart. Too smart for her own good. Nathan had heard the mutterings of gossip that swirled around her. Despite her quiet beauty, she did not have a quiet tongue, which she’d sharpened on several members of the ton. She certainly had made no new friends during the Season, but then, she did not need them. Before she had arrived in London, she had already collected an array of correspondents from across Europe, including powerful and influential figures, especially in the French government.

  They had been unable to prove that the French were backing the traitor, but the French were who Nathan would put his money on. The other most likely option was the Russians, and while some evidence had recently come to the surface to suggest they were the true culprits, Nathan thought it best not to trust either until they knew for sure.

  Miss Lillian Davies had contacts in Russia as well.

  Unfortunately, neither the Marquess of Camden nor his son, Elijah, considered her a suspect. They still saw her as the little girl who had grown up next to them and eventually became a good friend of the Marquess’ niece. To Nathan, that only meant she would be the perfect person to turn.

  Elijah had already told him to drop the subject, and he had but still kept an eye out. He was sure the tingle on the back of his neck and his inability to sleep had to do with her. Not because of her wide, dark eyes, lithe figure, or beautiful face, though she had all of those attributes as well. If he was completely honest, the fact he remained attracted to her, despite his suspicions, stirred his resentment.

  “Bloody women,” he muttered under his breath, reining in Merlin abruptly. The stallion obediently came to a halt. Riding was not giving him the peace of mind he desired. He might as well return home rather than complete his circuit.

  That sudden stop saved his life when the crack of a gunshot rang out, and a bullet whizzed by right in front of him.

  Nathan did not stop to think. Reacting on pure instinct, he yanked Merlin’s head around—much harder than he normally would have—and kicked him into a gallop. Despite being fairly even-tempered, Merlin loved to run and had likely been startled by the sound of the gun as well, though he could not have seen the bullet that flew in front of Nathan’s chest. Later, Nathan would reflect on how lucky he’d been that the bullet’s passage had gone betwixt him and Merlin’s head rather than hitting either of them.

  For now, he crouched low over Merlin’s back, his gaze moving along the trees where the shot must have come from. There was no movement there, and he could not tell if his attacker had fled or—

  Crack!

  Another shot, this one aimed at Merlin, and Nathan cursed, turning his horse away
from the trees. Without knowing how well-armed the shooter was, much less where he or she was hiding in the trees, and with no back-up, lingering was ill-advised. A tactical retreat was the only sane option, no matter how much it stung.

  Giving Merlin his head, Nathan flew through the park, headed for the exit closest to the Marquess of Camden’s London home. He had no doubt this attack was related to the hunt for the traitor—there was no other reason he could think of for someone to be shooting at him—so he wanted to not only report it but acquire assistance in investigating.

  The shooter would likely be long gone before he returned, but perhaps they would leave some evidence behind.

  The blood in his veins went ice cold when he rode Merlin up to the front of Camden House and saw the front door swinging open.

  Lily

  Staring out the window at the rolling greenery of the countryside, which finally greeted her eyes rather than the rows of houses, Lily heaved a sigh of relief. Inside the barouche-landau, on the opposite bench, her maid looked up at her with an inquisitive brow before deciding Lily had not actually been trying to catch her attention and looked away again. Thankfully, Chastity was used to Lily’s preference for quiet reflection over constant chattering.

  The lady’s maid had been a gift from the Duchess of Frederick, Lily’s godmother, during the Season, but they had rubbed along well, so Lily had asked if Chastity would extend her employment and accompany her to the country. It was a special boon because Lily had left for Derbyshire several days before her parents, permissible only because she had her lady’s maid to travel with her as an erstwhile chaperone. As there was no need to spend the night at an inn, she did not need a more formidable one.

  Sighing happily again, Lily leaned back against her bench seat, inwardly smiling when Chastity ignored her this time. Several years older, Chastity’s sober demeanor was a good match for Lily’s quiet, bookish ways.

  If she never had to go to London for the Season again, she would be perfectly happy. The only reason she had done so was her friend Evie had asked her and her other two best friends. Josie had thrived on her first foray into Society, and Mary had deftly dealt with her second Season, but Lily had hated every moment.

  Gentlemen, she had discovered, did not like a woman with a mind of their own. At least, not the nincompoops she was introduced to. Several had been drawn in by her relationship with the Duke and Duchess of Frederick, but they had not stayed after realizing Lily was the type to speak her mind. Which was a relief, even if it was lowering. She had always imagined marrying and having children, but if that was what London had to offer…

  Unfortunately, the options in Derbyshire were not much better. Perhaps she would become an aged bluestocking spinster, firmly on the shelf, playing doting auntie to her friends’ children. After her first Season, Lily found the prospect far more appealing than she would have countenanced.

  Granted, she had not gone into the Season with high hopes, knowing she was not what many considered ‘sociable,’ but whatever hopes she had were quickly crushed underfoot by the general attitudes of the ton. Her very first week out in Society, she’d heard the incredibly handsome Lord Broderick—with whom she’d thought she had a very interesting conversation—remark to one of his friends that the only way she would find a husband would be to sew her mouth shut.

  After that, to gauge the gentlemen’s reactions, Lily became even more outspoken about her views and opinions. Like Lord Broderick, they were polite enough to her face, but she saw through their facades and overheard enough of their comments to know those gentlemen were assuredly not for her.

  The carriage came to a sudden, jerking stop, tumbling the occupants about. Chastity cried out, flinging her arms wide as she was thrown forward, and Lily opened hers to catch her. They fell back against Lily’s bench, shocked by the abrupt halt.

  “Stand and deliver!”

  What? A highwayman? Lily and Chastity exchanged disbelieving looks before Lily quickly released her maid. Knowing she was being a perfect twit, Lily leaned out the window to see a man on horseback, wearing a long black cape and mask, pointing a gun at the carriage.

  Botheration. This was the last thing she needed today.

  “I said, stand and deliver!”

  “We’ve already stopped,” Lily called back waspishly. “What do you want delivered? And how?”

  “Miss, get back in the coach,” the driver ordered. Lily scowled. She was not out of the coach. Not truly. “I will deal with this blaggard.”

  “No—” Her protest was cut off as she watched in horror when her driver lifted his own arm, gun in hand, only to jerk back against the seat. The sound of the highwayman’s gunshot seemed to echo across the fields, and her entire body went numb with shock. The driver slumped and fell to the ground, startling the horses. Lily was flung back painfully against the window’s edge, causing her to drop back into the carriage as the horses lurched forward.

  Chastity screamed, but the movement was over almost as soon as it began, and through the ringing in her ears, she could hear the highwayman shouting something.

  He stopped the horses from running away with us.

  Is that good or bad?

  They were not in a runaway carriage, but that meant they were now at the mercy of the highwayman.

  He killed the driver.

  Lily did not even know the man’s name, had not asked. A fact which she now felt wildly guilty about. The man had meant to defend her, and perhaps he had gone about it foolishly, but to pay with his life when she had not even known his name…

  This is not a constructive line of thought, and you do not have time to dwell. You can find out his name later. Right now, you need to get yourself and Chastity out of this alive.

  The door to the carriage was yanked open, and Chastity screamed again, quickly covering her mouth with her hands as a gun was leveled at them. The highwayman was dressed completely in black, his face mostly hidden by a black scarf wound around the lower half and the hat pulled down atop his head, but she could still see his cold, dark eyes as his gaze flickered back and forth between her and Chastity.

  Fear for her life, the first time she had ever felt such a thing, paralyzed her.

  Chapter Two

  Nathan

  Tying Merlin to the inside of the gate, Nathan dashed up the stairs, though he slowed when he got to the door, listening carefully. The quiet was far more unnerving than anything he might have heard.

  Bloody hell.

  He slowly crept inside, moving as stealthily as he could. Pausing for a moment just inside the door, he moved to the right where the drawing-room was. It only took a moment to discover that the room was empty. Grabbing a poker from the fireplace, he returned to the hall.

  “Josie!” Elijah’s voice echoed through the house.

  Dashing forward, Nathan ran up the stairs where Elijah’s cry had come from. He paused only for a moment when he saw a body at the top of the stairs, invisible from the first floor, before jumping over it and continuing on his way. He was fairly certain it belonged to the Camden’s butler, but he could not stop.

  Not when others might need his help.

  The Marquess’ study was ahead, the door ajar, and he could hear a woman sobbing from within.

  Nathan burst through the door, only realizing his mistake when Elijah smoothly jumped to his feet from where he’d been kneeling, pointing a gun at Nathan.

  “Bloody hell, Nathan! I could have shot you!”

  “Your front door was ajar, and I heard a scream,” Nathan got out, panting for breath. His heart felt as if it was going to pound out of his chest as he took in the scene before him.

  The Marquess’ office was familiar grounds to him, full of heavy furniture and decorated with a dark red Oriental carpet and burgundy drapes. The paintings on the walls were of the family, the Marquess and his late wife, and individual portraits of his sons and niece. Now, they seemed to stare down at the Marquess’ body, where it lay behind his desk, with the blonde knee
ling next to him, her hands bloody as they pressed against his chest.

  Not his body. He’s still alive.

  “What happened?” His eyes darted around. There was another body, blood soaking the red carpet, off to the side, near the bookshelves.

  “Assassin,” Elijah said succinctly, already kneeling again and undoing his cravat. He handed the fabric to Josie, who lifted her hands long enough to take it and wad it against the wound in the Marquess’ chest. Tears streamed down her face, but she didn’t hesitate, just pressed her blood-covered hands, ignoring the red smears across her mint green dress. “Just breathe, Father. Try to relax.”

  More noise in the doorway made them turn. A footman was there, his face pale.

  “Cooper, he… he…” the footman stuttered, his gaze affixed on the injured Marquess. Cooper. That was the name of the Camden’s butler. From the expression on the footman’s face, before he’d even seen the Marquess, the news was not good.

  “Run for a doctor,” Elijah ordered. “As fast as you can. My father’s life depends on it.”

  The footman dashed off.

  “I cannot believe someone tried to kill him… if we had not been here… if we had left yesterday as we were supposed to…” Josie’s voice trailed off.

  Bloody hell.

  Clues began aligning themselves in Nathan’s brain, puzzle pieces coming together to create a clear picture.